FOR BETTER FOR WORSE

“Bend down”

“Bend down” he screams once again.

You will think I am a soldier being warned of an incoming bullet. You might picture me in a camouflage trouser, a sweaty ash top, with my face covered in dust and an assault rifle in my hands. The screaming has no emotions in it. It’s the kind a commander gives to his soldier, a king to his servants. But you see, I’m no soldier and I’m in no battle field, I am just a woman in her house in Lagos. The yelling is from the man of the house, I must obey, I have no choice. So I go on my knees. His clothes will be off a few seconds from now, he will slap and hit me hard, Like its a one night stand and I’m a stripper he picked up from a club. Mind you, I am no stripper, just a loving wife, and a mother to my son Tunde. I said it, it’s been approximately thirty seconds, he is done with me now. He pushes me so hard that I fall on the pile of books at a corner in the room.

“Are you done Wole?”

“Enough with the stupid questions” he says, as he meticulously inspects what lies between his legs

“I just want to know for sure”

“If I hear another word, you won’t like what I’d do to you”

The oga of the house means every word he says. He is my general, I am to obey without questions. I must be subservient at all times. Unless I want to see his wrath. How can a fragile woman like me fight with a Titan?

“I’m sorry” I say

I’m forever indebted to the word sorry, it has become my get away ticket. It takes me away from Wole’s fists, sometimes the ticket is not paid in full and I still get a slap.

I mentioned camouflage trousers earlier; I have worn them for a long time now, not as clothes, but on my skin. The scars. Some are dry like kernels, others are fresh like ogiri. It wasn’t always like this you see, ten years ago when I met Wole at a church conference in Oshodi, he was so different and sweet.

“Your blessings have arrived”

He screamed from the pulpit, with his jump up trousers and dusty shoes. We all chorused the hallelujah. Wole was our prayer leader, always with the wine coloured bible,always having encouraging words to say. He asked me to be his wife on a rainy evening. I remember he knelt in front of the pulpit with a ring in his hands.

“Be my wife Angela, I promise to love you as long as I breathe”

I was excited, I jumped and screamed, he knew the answer before I could even say a word .

Now as I sit in this big house with the swinging chandeliers, polished floor and leather cushions, I’m not sure I understand what love is.

“Do you love me?” I asked him sometime last year, he had just come back from ą camp meeting. Wole is one of the biggest pastors in the country; I’m proud of him, trust me I am. I wasn’t quite sure he heard me, so I asked again

“Wole do you still love me?”

“You have me, that’s what is important”

I knew his answer came with ribbons and knots, he had sealed the question. All of a sudden love was now Wole. So long as I have Wole I have love. His presence is supposed to make me happy, I’m meant to scream and bend my head for him to pat, like his members do. I signed off for love not for this. I loved everything he was in Oshodi, and will gladly trade Lekki to go back to the Oshodi version of Wole. The Wole that wore faded shirts and jump up trousers. His Lekki version is killing me, eating me up like Termites would eat wood.

Tomorrow is a Sunday. I will wear my hat with the golden embroidery, and the gown I bought from my trip to England last month, with the brown shoes that can feed a family in Makoko for one week. I will wear a smile for several hours, nod my head and raise my hands up when Wole drops another rhema. His members would be shell shocked if they got to learn just a bit of their spiritual father. A man that screams “Bend down” before sex and tears my undies if I refuse, a man that dipped my face into the hot Eba I served him because there was no periwinkle in the soup. They will call me a liar; these people will jump from third mainland bridge if Wole tells them to.

Three years back, when I was still pregnant, Wole came back from the office very late one night

“Where is my food” he asked

“My love, I have been weak all day, I tried to go into the kitchen but just couldn’t”

“So what do you want me to eat? You expect me to stay hungry because you’re pregnant?”

“No honey, there is some food in the freezer, all you have to do is heat it up”

“Ok”

Few minutes later I felt an all too familiar kind of pain, I screamed. I didn’t have to turn around to know that he was using his belt on me, fast and hard strokes on my butt

“Wole, the baby, please the baby, please”

Those were the exact words I muttered. I slept sideways that night, If you have been pregnant before then I’m sure you know how uncomfortable that is. My stomach was heavy and sore, my butt was bleeding. When I gave birth to Tunde, Wole climbed the pulpit on the day of his dedication, he spoke about love and urged his members to make our marriage their mirror. I smiled and nodded my head, I did not want him to give me another face therapy at home, I was still nursing my bruised gum from the last slap.

I hear and read things about feminists,that women should be equal to men. But I also believe that the terrain matters a lot, if I was a single lady on the street with a placard in my hands that would be different. From where I come from these things are seen as an abomination. Even certain women disagree “why woman wan follow man hold ten” is what they say.

Physically Wole is stronger, financially he is too. If I leave my home people will mock me, and what will happen to my son. Its easier to criticise from outside, believe me its different once you are directly involved. Today I got a first aid kit, better late than never. Reality is an unscrupulous fellow. But I believe in it, and it says I must stick with Wole. For better for worse

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

THE STINK

Hi fam! Sorry for the long absence, was quite busy at the Port Harcourt World Book Capital Writers in Residence program. I’m here now, let’s get it rolling!

WHAT DO YOU STINK OF?

The lady says “you stink of cigarettes!”

The dude says “seems you’ve got cow dung in your bag, you stink!”

Ehm….. Not what I mean.

My number one turn off is body odour! That’s just a NO for me. There’s no excuse for smelling so bad as early as 8 am! That’s appalling!

Yes, that’s just nasty… but still not what I mean

I don’t mean the Ralph Lauren or Givenchy perfumes! That’s all superficial; it doesn’t go deeper than your skin. I’m referring to something deeper, and stronger. It’s the kind of smell that is perceived with the nose and then the eyes, legs, hands. The stink comes from your aura.

Every individual smells of something. Our five senses are interrelated in every way, I taste the soup with my tongue because my eyes have seen that it looks good, my nose has smelt it and it smells good, my ears have heard that there aren’t fights happening around; so I can pounce on the food.

Almost there now…….

Let’s shift the soup aside now. Will I be sounding ridiculous if I say happiness has its smell? The same for bitterness, malice, anger, depression, envy… they take control of your other senses anyway. You see the way an angry person behaves? Screaming, fighting, kicking things, breaking stuff……that’s just the five senses reacting to the smell.

Now if you say you don’t stink, then that means you stink of nothing! That’s really not good, it means you’re empty and you’re really not living life to its fullest. The stink just shows that you’re human.
When you stink of bad stuff, how do you think people around you feel? Here’s a practical example you can try out. Buy some garlic, get a friend to chew some, and let the friend stick with you for the rest of the day. Try to interact, you can reminisce on stuff…. By the end of the day you’ll get the scope.

Now we decide the perfume we wear, I decide mine. I’m a Calvin Klein dude, I’m sure you have your brand. You don’t feel the same way if you wear something else. You love your stuff and your stuff loves you, so you deliberately use it.

DELIBERATELY

The same way you can decide your character stink for the day. You can choose to stink of love, kindness, happiness. You are the pilot of your stink. Believe me, when you smell good you attract the right things and people to you.

LET’S WEAR THE RIGHT STINK!

You can read about my experience at the residency here

http://ngrguardiannews.com/artnew/184103-we-were-aesthetically-tortured-to-be-better-writers

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

CONFESSIONS OF A JONAH-LIST

I am a chronic talkative but it’s something I tell people with pride, I always jump into people’s conversation whether they mind or not. I am also a journalist. Journalism has been a contrast of my true self, I now have to listen more and talk less, and I was once of the opinion that my career was gradually transforming me into a mannequin of some sort.

Five years ago I was a freelance journalist in Lagos…yes you heard me right, Lagos A.K.A Lasgidi! .Life then was very tough for me, I had to hop from one BRT bus to the other, I also had to beg people to share their opinions on events that had occurred, and I had to try to be nice .

Saying I am a nice person is like saying H.I.V doesn’t exist but you have nothing to worry about……I am an exceptional actor. I can laugh at the worst joke; I can keep a straight face even when my hidden laughter has my pant soaked in urine. I don’t freelance anymore and I am now a stable journalist, I don’t have to run around to get interviews, my boss is well connected and hooks me up with politicians, celebrities and everybody that matter in the country. I also have had crazy experiences and I think I should talk about my interview with a certain Governor.

That morning my boss called me on the phone and told me the Governor was expecting me in his office by 10am………I was shocked and exited at the same time! I quickly had my bath, put on my trouser and T-shirt that had become my uniform, I picked up my recorder and quickly drafted out some questions. As I made to leave my room, I glanced at my mirror and realized that I looked too tough, my muscular arms didn’t complement the top that I had on, so I changed into a gown that showed a bit of my cleavage (it wasn’t intentional) and then I dashed off to the government house. By the time I got there I was sweating profusely, I had to go through his rather strict protocol and at last I was ushered into the rather controversial Governors office.

“Good morning miss” he said

“Good morning sir” I replied

He stretched out his hands for a handshake and help unto my hands for quite a while.

“You are glowing miss Matilda; I certainly love what I’m seeing”

I wondered how he knew my name but then I remembered that I told his chief protocol officer my name a while ago. He kept his eyes fixed on my breasts and I could have sworn that I saw tears run down his face. I placed my recorder on the table, and started with the interview.

The governor turned out to be a very interesting man; I was laughing in no time and even abandoned the questions I had drafted. He kept his eyes fixed on my boobs all through the interview and kept taking deep breaths like he was drawing inspiration from them. To cut the story short, it’s been two years since then and I have let the Governor suck my breast several times……please don’t ask me why! With all sincerity I love what I do, with every story I learn, I feel my heart perforate and my soul connect in ways unimaginable. I could be covering a car accident, I could be interviewing a suspected fraudster and I often wonder if my little recorder and shrill voice is worthy enough to tell stories so big, stories that could make Zeus cry and Apollo laugh. My research before an interview has given me so much insight and knowledge…..I love my job. The Governor is on the line now……hold on….I have to pick his call…so bye for now!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

KILL THE COCKROACH!!

Do you love movies? Ok yes you do…do you love action movies..I guess so! Who doesn’t… have you forgotten Jack bauer already? Do you remember the series..24! , if you do then you must remember that phrase…“Kill the cockroach”, the tyrant that used the phrase to motivate his child-soldiers, it was quite surreal watching small kids blow the heads of adults and it made me wonder how numb their conscience must have been. I know it’s all fictional but it was very believable and that’s why I think 24: Redemption will always be in a class of its own. Now whenever i see Hakeem kae-kazeem smiling in Etisalat adverts I’m always baffled, although he has made so much money by displaying his dentition I still prefer seeing him with the AK-47, howling out commands. Well, today is all about the cockroaches….have you noticed how we all get ruffled when we discover rats in our homes, the way they dash across the kitchen and make funny sounds at night. Our next point of action is always to eliminate them and so we fervently get down to work, can we say the same for the roaches that creep slowly? We don’t get frightened when we see them, we simply try to step on them with our shoes and if they manage to get away we simply let them go. Both of them eat up our food, clothes and books but one gets the serious scourge.

At this point it’s quite possible that you’re confused and probably wondering where I’m headed……just take a deep breath, we’ll soon be there. I always come up with different concepts and angles in order to nail the cross effectively. So what are the rats in your life? The things that scare us so much and we earnestly try to avert…sickness, accidents, Death…Certainly that, nobody wants to die. So we try our best to keep them away, but can we say the same for the roaches? Those things that creep all over us, that nibble on our very existence but it’s so hard to spot them out. They try so hard to equate themselves with normality. Low self esteem, doubt and dwindling aspirations…These are all typical examples of how the cockroaches attack us, the young man that was once budding with desires and dreams is now a claqueur for the rich, and has assumed that poverty is descendible…so since his grandfather was poor and his father is poor then poverty is most likely his birthright, so every day you take whatever life gives you, you tag satisfaction as what is available not what is attainable…..that’s the cockroach getting fat in your life. You manage to keep the rat away, you stay alive, you go to the hospital when you’re sick, you get married and raise kids…. You look alright, but alright is the story of millions in the world today. Alright is a valley, it gives you the rain and sunshine and enough to go on… but then there’s a mountain somewhere…you should have climbed or be trying to climb. The cleistogamous plants are colourful and look almost the same as the other plants in the bunch…..but when you take a closer look at them you’ll realize that they do not open up, they remain closed. When are you going to open up? When are you going to make records out of that voice? When are you going to get that role in a blockbuster movie? Are you trying to get out of the shadows?

I’m several miles away from perfection and I’m just like you…trying to get rid of the roaches in my life, I ignored them countless times and there have been repercussions but at least I’m doing something. I’ve been trying to weigh the effect the kill the cockroach chants must have had on those little boys, all they saw in front of them were tiny roaches but in reality they had several pounds of flesh and blood in front of them, they were brainwashed to the extent where their eyesight held no meaning. It’s one thing to recognise your problems; it’s another thing to see your obstacles as mere roaches. To see the big challenges in front of you as little, little enough to make you want to dive in almost at once without second thoughts…..to already see victory! Believe me when I say victory is place, a place we all need to visit soon, book your ticket now! Start killing the cockroaches.
So today I joint in the chanting

KILL THE COCKROACH! KILL THE COCKROACH! KILL THE COCKROACH!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

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PGID: THE CAUSE BEHIND THE CURSE

The title “the cause behind the curse” is my calculative attempt to sum up something so heavy with few words, perhaps the caption serves as an augury for my next lines. I’m going to verbally operate on PGID and hope I can communicate effectively and entertain you as well. Today makes it two years since I started blogging, so it’s a special moment for me. When we tear up animals we are always mindful of their entrails, how bad they smell….so we carefully get rid of them. PGID is one human and societal entrail that’s been left for too long and now it has maggots popping out, it was never opened up in the first place, was never torn to shreds….its lifeless carcass lies by the river bank, it doesn’t have a hand to stir the water like Ebola or claws to hurt like HIV, its steady and defiant ooze is now a raucous of its own. In its solitary it has made some noise, just enough to catch my thirsty ears.

PGID stands for PERSISTENT GENITAL AROUSAL DISORDER. Its name is long….as long as its plague, it’s the menacing guest our parents warned us about as kids growing up. It’s a disorder we have no control over, it’s phenomenal….I use that word because its negatively unique……but it’s still unique. It is the persistent uncontrollable genital arousal in women and is largely unrelated to any feelings of sexual desire. Any form of vibration i.e. from mobile phones, generator sets, trains and sound speakers puts the syndrome into action and in most occasions it leads to orgasm. I read a story recently about a lady, she boarded a train on a very warm afternoon and just as the train left the station she started wriggling, writhing and moaning…she straightened her legs out as the unquenchable spasms kicked in. other passenger were shell shocked and majority of them assumed she was epileptic, but that wasn’t the case. She was simply having an orgasm…her fifth that day alone.

You know that saying? Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it all, some ladies always go the extra mile trying to get to an orgasm but the PGID’ERS can have ten in a single day!. It’s as mind wrecking as being raped, it is stringed with a sufficient level of decadence so “victims” lock their plights up. I watched an episode of A 1000 ways to die, the show has gradually become my favourite…it’s my “popcorn” show and exhibits the menacing ways people get a full stop to their lives, in the episode a man carnally took advantage of a PGID’er and would purposely set her phone on vibration and enjoy the show as she made loud moans on the couch with tears in her eyes. This people have no place for love in their lives, they are always likely to get sexually exhausted and see sex as a painful experience. I know it’s implausible but it’s everywhere, people are thriving with this disorder, my article today is just a microcosm, an attempt to shine light on something that has hobbled in the dark for so long.

Literature says it is caused by an irregularity of the sensory nerves and is more likely to happen to people that have had hormonal treatment. As much as there is no cure it can still be effectively managed, as much as there is a social barricade you can still reach out for help..There is always available help, help shares a common boundary with hope and hope is what keeps us going. So now you know PGID is real, you don’t take advantage, you don’t victimise them….You just offer hope. Its never a good thing when you can’t control your sexual desire, when your heart is not a connecting pipe to your deepest emotions…That’s how PGID exerts itself..don’t add another layer to the CURSE

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

BODY COUNT (18+)

You love life..the funfair and frenzy, you relish Friday nights, according to you it’s a perfect avenue to let go of the stress that’s been building up all week, so there you are on that leather couch, sipping from the glass cup in your hands, you’re not too drunk to notice the charming gentleman that’s been winking at you all night long, then in the few minutes that follow you dance with him and let him talk dirty in your ears. Two hours later your naked figure is lying on a bed, used condoms are littered on the floor and the gentleman is obviously fatigued and is knocked out….snoring. It’s a normal scenario for you so you simply go under the duvet and sleep on till morning.

*************************************

You find it difficult to ignore the ladies, everyday you walk along the road you come across beautiful ladies and you always try to get them to notice you. All you need is for them to smile at you…Maybe wink or blush…you just need a sign! Then you get to work, you’re a smooth talker so it’s quite easy to get them to believe you. You promise them the heavens; you make promises and profess a ‘specie’ of love deep enough to make Romeo and Juliet jealous, but all you want is ‘victory’, you see every lady as a game of poker and you only derive satisfaction when her legs are spread apart and you’re kneeling in front of her, struggling to get your condom on… the clock on the wall ticks and plays a perfect symphony for you while you enjoy the spoil.

*************************************

Two illustrations from very different angles but with striking similarities, sex is so easy to indulge in as long as you can find someone eager enough to “participate”. We even chase after sex like there’s an accolade attached to it, these days it’s as simple as sharing a cup of coffee, sex is now an occupation! It pays the bills, buys you the new phone and even gets you the job. Great sex is economically a good idea…..that’s how the society has made it look. A young man takes serious pride in bragging to his friends about how many “ladies he has laid” and the girls always want to have the richest “sex job”. Even when ‘accidents’ happen there’s no self-flagellation of any sort, no guilt and certainly no dent in our self esteem. The term guilt is frigidly relevant and doesn’t hold any ground with the ailing state of our moral pedigree. As much as we have made sex an expedient diet, how mindful are we of our body count? I’m sure a large number of us won’t be able to fathom what I mean by body count, it’s all about the number of times we have had sex. If you still know your count then you can give yourself a pat on the back! The concept was designed to help us checkmate and control our “sexual exploits”, it also indirectly helps to give us a stronger resolve to reserve sex for those “magical” moments. I came along a picture some days back with a very strong inscription and it read-

Every man you have sex with deposits and leaves a part of his soul in you…..how many soul ties are you walking around with?”

It’s a very short phrase but then its message is as strong as they come…we can decide to decrypt the term “soul ties” whichever way we want but the question that kept popping in my head was ….what if there’s a greater consequence for every body count? I don’t mean the STD’s or the “sin sermons”…what if there’s a lot more? Would you be more cautious when it comes to sex? I’m sure we are all aware of the answer! So why not start today? A drink in the club or money should never be a collateral for sex….we can start making our body count actually…COUNT!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

DEMONS IN PRADA

Every lady likes to look good, and these days the thirst for fashion is at its thresh hold. Every year we see fashion constantly evolve like never before, there’s always a new blouse or a new skirt, and the desire to flow with the trend is insatiable. Personally, I love it when a lady stands out; it’s always an interesting sight when a lady captivates the crowd! The gentlemen fervently drool all the way but then I tend to wonder if fashion gives any insight to a ladies personality. What’s more startling is the fact that every lady looks beautiful these days, with the cosmetics and artificial hair! But the clothes and shoes only serve as a podium for every lady, yes! She sparkles and glows but that’s quite superficial and says nothing of her personality. The lady with the long heels might just be shallow; the woman with the bright clothes may just be cruel, but every ‘”modern dude” wants to judge a lady by what she wears and in most instances that’s the only attribute they look out for. The ladies have noticed this “change” so they invest all their time trying to look good, they stop developing their intellects and character, they leave their talents to gather dust. So beauty becomes their only goal, social media has not helped in any way, with facebook and instagram there is always a reason to dress good for the camera, so the society has beautifully patterned “pots” in all corners of the universe…..the only problem is these pots are empty! I know so far I’ve only been critical but at some point the cock has to crow! This is just a wakeup call to the ladies…definitely if you look sizzling you’ll have the attention of most guys, but what’s the duration of the admiration? A thousand likes on your facebook and that’s most of it! And your webs will certainly bring you guys that are all clogged up with lust. I have always been of the mindset that love is like the wind….it’s not seen its felt! Lust sees…..love feels! So ladies ask yourself today… “How well have I developed myself?” “Am I offering anything more to my society other than pictures?” These questions are pivotal to every lady that wants to take the self examination test. Every girl regardless of her social status or wealth is like a glass of palm wine, nature in all of its dynamicity gives room for “compulsory change”. With each passing day you keep fermenting, and with time you won’t be the “Cinderella” you once were. The beauty fades but the talent and quality stands strong, that’s all that matters. I’d love to take a Ferrari for a spin, I also hope to ride in a Bentley someday, but if I want to buy a car I’d certainly look beyond the grandeur of these motorcars and will earnestly consider the engine and its durability! I’m being quite metaphorical but I’m sure everyone reading gets the scope! The figure is great, the smile is stunning, the legs are amazing….most dudes will love to take a “ride’” or a quick spin! But when it’s time for commitment they will always consider the “engine”, they will weigh your character and evaluate your quality. I think I have scribbled enough words….so my ladies you can decide to redefine your perspective to life today, as you try to keep in touch with fashion today, don’t leave the “things that really matter” behind! God bless you!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

THE SPEECH

The bald headed man with the brown teeth called him out to the podium, although he sat in front and not too far from the stage he felt like he was going to break down. The applause from the crowd was deafening, he took what he felt were probably his most important steps and as he got to the podium the bald headed man smiled broadly displaying his very nasty dentition, he received a warm hug and in just seconds there he was alone on the very high stage. He was amazed at the sea of faces, mostly smiling and looking at him with enthusiasm. He fumbled around with the paper in his hands, he tried his best to hold back from cursing when he realized that he had the wrong paper with him. What do I do now! And then there was silence, he could hear his heart beat, he slowly brought the microphone to his mouth

“Good day everyone…I am humbled by this award and the fact that I was recognised for something so small ehm I meant to say something so big and yet so small like this piece of iron! Oh no not iron I was going to say like this piece of gold” sweat beads flowed down his fore head into his eyes and now he cursed

“shiiiiiit!”…….

Now everyone looked puzzled and some chuckled, he felt so embarrassed, he wondered why people had to give these dumb speeches after an award! I’m good with the computers and programming! Not with these silly speeches, fake smiles and hugs!.

“I’m sorry for the swear word, we programmers have a habit of cursing when we are faced with a stumbling block, this award is not a stumbling block!!…oh God”

Now people were laughing and applauding him, he felt so silly…. These people are getting a free show from me ! he put his hands in his pocket and took his handkerchief out and made to wipe his face with it and just then he saw her….Melanie….they most important woman in his life…..the only woman that dared love a geek like him…he was surprised to see her, she hadn’t told him she was going to come and now here she was with her perfect eyes, smile and that pony tail that simply made her look like a goddess. She nodded her head and gave him the thumbs up smile, he felt the courage simmer in.

“Thank you all for honouring me, I know I made a very bad start here but the thing is I’ve always sucked at these things and would rather talk to my computer with my fingers. I spent my entire night prior to this morning trying to write up something meaningful and after several failed attempts I was able to come up with something good enough but then I forgot to come with it. Sincerely, I was about to give everyone here a good show and absolutely embarrass myself but then I saw someone just now and I think I have found the words, deeply embedded in passion, and hopefully the passion will save me today. There’s never a minute of regret when you do something you enjoy because in the depth of that desire you’ll find ideas and inspiration like never before”

He paused and looked down at Melanie, she was still radiant and beautiful as ever, he smiled back at her and continued with his speech

“I was always too smart, I was always way ahead of my mates but I never found perfection till I found my true desire. If you ever want to be like me all you have to do is listen to your heart, let your heart decide the denouement..Once again thank you very much and God bless you for this award”

He took a step backward and there was silence for a quarter of a second…did I flop!but within a twinkle of an eye everyone was up applauding him, he could even hear screams, he glanced at Melanie and there she was sobbing and smiling at the same time, her mouth formed the words “I love you”. He knew he had nailed it for sure! Alas Nick Kempton gave a good speech!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

LOVIGEOUS

Doubt that the stars are fine, doubt that the sun doth move,doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt love- William Shakespeare

The bible in all its strictness and holiness still got a bit flexible at a point; I scrolled through its pages some days ago and saw some very notable lines about love. Although I have attended church all my life, those words pierced through me like never before. That must have been my 1000th time of coming across that chapter of the bible. It talks about love and all the virtues we must possess before we can become self acclaimed lovers, it got me wondering if God knew that love was going to get so messed up in 21st century and thought it expedient to draw up some road maps for those that can brace themselves up and run to the everlasting best seller for help. I look around me today and I see people with their different notions of love, everyone is a relationship expert till their own love affair comes crumbling. If you survive two weeks with your partner people start throwing surprise glances at you….like “how did this people make it through?”……..just 14 days! That illustrates the times we are in now. We acknowledge the end before the beginning, we say yes to love but deep down we anticipate its end. A friend of mine recently told me that she loves her hobby but she doesn’t see them lasting much longer, and so I asked her why and she offered no viable explanation….” It always ends noooooow” was all she could mutter. I strongly think there should be a degree program for LOVE and its affiliates…an institution that will try to decrypt the technically structured puzzle called love!( I’m sure you’re laughing now and calling me silly). People refer to the folks that talk about love often as being “mushy” but yet love is almost as vivid as the birds that fly and the trees that sway. If you grew up in Africa it gets worse, the only time you receive the approval to flaunt your LOVE is when you are married or just about to…..The African system condemns love before marriage and it is seen as immoral. Just the other day I saw an elderly woman throw out saliva at a boy and girl I presumed to be couples just because the boy suddenly discovered that the girls neck tasted like chocolate and made it his point of duty to nibble at it in public…. So being in love as a teenager or youth in Africa is like smoking marijuana. I’d love to digress a bit today because I have written several articles on love and I really want this piece to have a unique touch to it and that brings me to the very popular question that has definitely been asked in the host of languages that exist…………HOW DO I KNOW WHEN I FIND LOVE???? HOW DO I KNOW HE/SHE IS FOR REAL? Even philosophers have to admit that some questions can only be answered by the same God they do not believe in..lol…. so yours dearly ran to his bible for answers and here is what I found :

Love endures
It’s so sad how easily we give up on the person we claim to be in love with; the inability to patch up and try to move on is really a relationship killer. The fights are bound to happen once in a while but if it’s actually love it can be stretched all the way like its elastic….you can say he makes you cry a lot but you have to self examine yourself….do you love him? Is he worth the tears? If he is then it’s okay to keep believing and I’m sure there will be smiles in no time.

Love is kind
Kindness is pivotal in every relationship and if you ask me I’d say it’s the “oxygen” every relationship needs to thrive in, gender is insignificant here. A lady should return as much kindness as she receives; a guy should capitalise on every opportunity that presents itself to show his lady that he cares. Kindness is usually a trademark at the start of every love tale but we easily let it wither once we get deep in the triangle.

Love never fails
Love is webbed in perfection, its concept produces beautiful results, and it’s the supplement we all need to enjoy our existence. You might say money is all you need to make the best out of life..But in God’s plan he created a space for every one of us to find love and be loved and money will never fill that void. A wise man once said “I found wealth the day I found love”.

These points are basically what we need to answer most questions we ask when we are emotionally perplexed. If there’s no kindness and thirst to be together then you definitely need to make the “hard decision”. Remember…Money, great sex and beauty can never take the place of LOVE, try to recollect the epic tale of beauty and the beast…how love transformed the beast! I know its all fictional but your beast is anything that scares or prevents you from feeling fulfilled….Just find love and scare that beast away!.

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com

THE SPRINT

On your marks…..

Get set…..

Ready….

Go………

These are the words said before the sprint, I’m not using them metaphorically, and this piece is all about those lines. I always wonder what goes through an athlete’s mind as he kneels on the floor, sweat dripping from his face; he has probably spent three or more years of his life just for that fifteen seconds surge. The drills and hard work could lead to something beautiful, a gold medal……… brooches and the beam light over the podium. It could also leads to tears and frustration; believe me when I say the pendulum could swing in any direction regardless of how determined and motivated they are. Now let’s try to apply this to our everyday life, the student that spends several weeks studying just for a thirty minutes paper or the patient that has waited several months for a new heart to be available, how does the student feel in those few seconds before the exam, how does the patient feel as he lies down on the operating table…………the next few hours could determine if he’ll be alive to witness his daughters graduation but then all he can do is hope for the best. What do we do when we work so hard for something but end up losing them, when we know what we want or what to do but can’t do anything because our fate is in someone else’s hands…..do we quit? Do we allow fear and depression to set in? or should we get on our marks full of purpose and GO!, on the tracks there are always a couple other sprinters all after the same price, the race is never run alone, it’s always a competition….I chose these illustrations because life is so similar to the race track, none of us dropped from the sky, or from our mums sex affair with Zeus….that’s all fictional! Reality is all about the competition, there’s always a war to fight, as children growing up it was probably the class bully, as we grew it became the race for love, success and self relevance. We all know what happens when a sprinter sprains an ankle or for some reason falls to the ground……..nobody stops! Because at that point nobody really cares about you……..everyone is after the same price. Your friends could neglect you at any point, it has always been a constant in life, the people you thought had your back all of a sudden live you out in the cold….what matters at the end of the day is what you make out of life……friends are baskets that could perforate at any time, so as you lay your eggs in several baskets make sure yours is very full and sealed, Don’t be an empty vessel that relies on people for everything, you must steadily develop yourself. Despite the ups and downs we might encounter in the struggle, despite the number of times we might lose out in the race, the idea of victory and the red ribbon against our chest at the end of the race should propel us to push on.

So instead of grumbling and feeling all depressed…….get on your marks and GO!

Copyright

© Ceeflod.com . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this blog and website without express and written permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ©ceeflod.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. e-mail: Dumebiphil@gmail.com